Most days when I get back from the office, my 2-year old son Aidan greets me in the hall or kitchen. I’ll walk in, and sometimes he’ll run to meet me, his little feet pounding the floor eagerly.
“Daddy, are you home?” he says without a trace of irony as I sweep him off the floor, high up towards the ceiling.
“Yes I am,” I answer. “Are you home?”
“Yup!”